


The light at the end of the tunnel

by ClaireMcKenzieFraser



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Broken Draco Malfoy, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Sad, Sad Ending, Self-Hatred, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27617423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireMcKenzieFraser/pseuds/ClaireMcKenzieFraser
Summary: I'm so sorry for writing this, the truth is, it broke my heart but I needed it.It's the story of Draco during the battle of Hogwarts and five years after. It doesn't end well, you're warned, please read the trigger warnings.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	The light at the end of the tunnel

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this please let me know what you think of it! Thank you for reading this!

_None of this could possibly be true. No, not now. Please be merciful_. Draco always knew that this precise moment would come one day. The moment where he’ll find himself in the middle of this twisted and toxic situation. He was just hoping that he’ll get some respite. But he’s a Malfoy, his parents are Death Eaters, he himself became one of them. To what respite was he daring to dream of?

He had known even before he arrived in Hogwarts’ outer courtyard. He had known that he’ll be facing Voldemort. The bloody mark forever carved in his skin was burning his arm, reminding him that he was less than a man. The mark was making him suffer, in every way. Most of the time he was hiding it, simply because the single view of his wrist was making him sick. The young man had arrived in a place where he was repulsed by his own self.

He was standing amongst the other students and teachers. For once – even if it won’t last long- he was on the “good side”. However, his parents weren’t, they were looking at him desperately, expressionless. Draco wished to cry, he wanted to get rid of his body tension. Seeing his parents like that… He was broken, just like his mother and his father. Yet, the tears just won’t fall. For everyone around him, he was the usual little shit hated by the majority. Actually, it was fine, he was not much of a talker.

Talking about his greatest fears, his greatest weaknesses, his darkest thoughts… It would just be like giving someone the keys to completely crush him down. The damages on his mental health were already irreversible anyway. Since his “talk” with Harry in the restroom where he almost died, he was completely messed up, an empty shell. That day, while he was bleeding to death on the tiles, his head had been thoughtless. He remembers that he had hoped. He had hoped that maybe Harry would give him this present.

With time he had learned how to build a wall all around him. His father always taught him that it was better to be feared than pitied. That may be the only good advice he ever gave him. “You see, fascination is ephemeral while fear leaves scars.” Draco knew this was real. His nightmares were proof enough.

In his nightmares, Voldemort always kills both his parents in front of him. His mother first, then, his father. He has to witness this, powerless and unable to shed any tears. He was horrified. Horrified not to be able to show any emotion. An exterior viewer would think that he doesn’t even care. After his parent’s deaths, Draco always let himself fall on the ground, on his knees. He would usually beg The-One-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to kill him after. Voldemort always laughed at him. “You really believe that I would give you a sweet death? It’s much more fun to watch you suffer.”

“Draco? My boy, you’re coming?” Lucius called for him.

All eyes instantaneously turned towards himself and he stared at the ground. He couldn’t bear their disgusted, pitiful stares. Without thinking he started to walk and stopped in front of Voldemort.

“Good, good. That’s the good choice boy.” Voldemort declared.

Draco had to forced himself not to run away when the dark lord hugged him. He was perfectly still. When Voldemort finally released him he resumed his walking. He can’t abandon his parents even if he secretly dreams of redemption, of fighting alongside Ron, Hermione and the others. When his mother opened her arms, he almost ran into them, not caring about appearances anymore. Nothing mattered now. Voldemort won, the chosen one was dead. It was only a matter of time.

That’s when he heard the whole crowd sigh and he turned around to see what caused the sudden reaction. Hagrid arrived, the lifeless body in his arms.

Voldemort and Bellatrix were eagerly laughing at this point.

“As you can all see, Harry is dead, there no longer is a chosen one. Nobody will save you. Come with me and you’ll have my protection, you and your families.” Voldemort said, almost laughing.

 _It hurts._ Draco was heavy-hearted. _Was this really the ending?_

“Nobody huh? Do you all wish to die then?” Voldemort was starting to lose his patience.

A heavy silence followed. Then, Neville started to walk.

“Neville Longbottom! I’m not gonna lie to you I was hoping for better.” All the Death Eaters laughed. “But we accept everyone. Keep moving!”

The boy stopped halfway through and turned, the Sorting-hat in hands.

“This is not over! Harry may be dead now but we can’t let his death be useless. He fought until the very end for us. You know why? Because he thought that we had an actual chance to win this! He always believed in each one of us, deeply. We have something that they’ll never have: Unity. We’re a family, a united group. They are more numerous than us but they’re all alone. We have to keep Harry’s fight going!” declared Neville.

Draco was impressed. He never pictured Neville as a leader before. After this little speech, many things happened, so fast for him to really understand them. Neville picked the Gryffindor’s sword from the hat and Harry suddenly jumped from Hagrid’s arms. Very much alive. Draco’s mind was about to explode. What should he do, no, what will he do to help Harry? Voldemort was screaming with anger and frustration.

“NO! I KILLED YOU HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE HERE! YOU WERE DEAD!”

The Dark Lord was casting many spells to reach the boy who lived who was running between the columns to avoid the spells. Draco started to run and, despite his mother’s screams he called Harry’s name loudly. When he caught the chosen one’s attention, he threw his wand towards him because Harry was unarmed. Thanks to Draco’s wand, he fought back and a war started between the Death Eaters and the others. He saw Harry’s weird expression, he knew he just did something crucial. By helping Harry, he put his life in danger. If Harry’s army loses this fight he’ll have to run forever. He clearly showed everyone that his allegiance towards Voldemort was undeniably broken.

**5 years later**

Draco swore for the thousandth time when he hit the low table in his apartment. He really needed to move this table away. Whenever he got home at night -drunk and unsteady- he hit this damn table. He knew that, yet he wouldn’t move this table.

He tried to get his life back after the Hogwart’s Battle, he had tried to leave his old life behind him, to start something new, as an ordinary man. Nothing went as planned of course. For starters, his mother left Lucius soon after the battle. Draco couldn’t even blame her, his father was too damaged and for quite long now. He knew that if she would have stayed she would have been too unhappy. As for Lucius, he never want to see Draco again. Draco then chose to leave this world and move in the Muggle’s world, where nobody would know his name. He would just be a man amongst others. A clean slate.

Unfortunately, despite the years nothing has changed. Draco’s thoughts remained really dark if it’s not even worse than before. In Draco’s case, time doesn’t heal, it doesn’t kill him fast enough. He never tried to build something, not a big career, not even a family. He never even had a real relationship because he also had to deal with the fact that he was more attracted to men. Astoria tried to help him with all she could give, really, but he ended up hurting her like every people that are too close from him.

Nothing in his life worth the shot. Tonight, at the bar he wanted to die. He wanted to die just by seeing to happy people, who were smiling at each other. He had a hard time to understand that not all people had a life like his. He was envious, jealous of poor people who will never even know who he is.

He went in his bathroom to stare at his reflection. What happened to him? He was so full of ambitions, he dreamed of glory and eternal happiness. Now, he was crying every time he thought about the death of the little boy he was back in the time. This part of him was long gone and buried, forever destroyed. He always hated Harry because Harry always made the right choices, Harry actually had a chance to make them.

Then, something happened. The tears rolled down Draco’s cheeks. His wrists and arms were covered in scars, he had bags under his eyes, his hair was a mess and his shirt was covered in some guy’s blood he fought with at the bar and some cheap whisky. Nothing was okay. Nothing was alright and deep down he knew it was now or never. He quickly grabbed a pen -even though he never get used to them- and a piece of parchment that he kept all this time for this precise purpose.

He sat on his desk chair and -with his right hand- swiped everything that was on his office including his first novel named “Intimate violence”. As a Pure-blood and wizard, Draco had not a single Muggle ability, no skills if it’s not writing. This, he knew how to do. Laying words on a paper, under an anonym pen name. That was his way of dealing with Muggle issues like, for example renting an apartment. He started to write.

“ _Dear Harry,_

He so often dreamed of this moment that he wrote pretty quickly.

_You must be wondering why I’m writing to you after all those years. You undoubtedly have other things to do, but I needed to send you this in order to finish what I have to do too._

His tears were running on his cheeks, so much that he had to pause for a minute because he couldn’t see clearly.

_First of all, I wanted you to know that I tried everything before giving up, I tasted everything, travelled in several countries but nothing worked. I even went to therapy, who would have thought huh? The truth is that in all of those adventures, I was merely a spectator, like I’ve been my whole life. I’ve seen my life proceed in front of me without actually living it. Do you know what I managed to do in five years? I wrote a stupid book._

_I never had the courage to call you, to congratulate you, to apologize for all this shit I did as an idiot kid. I’ll try to do my best today. I’m deeply and truly sorry for everything I did to you, your friends and every poor soul that ever crossed my path. I’m not going to use the lame excuse that everyone uses. I won’t try to make you feel sorry for me. I don’t have any excuse. I mean, look at you, you grew up in a damn broom cupboard. You never knew your parents and yet, you became a good person. I’ve always envied you which is crazy. You had unwanted attention when I craved it and didn’t get any. Look at me, so pathetic._

_I’m not expecting you to forgive me, but I felt like I owed you this explanation. I’ve never knew where I belonged, what to do with my life, who to trust. My mother wanted to get me out of this shit but she had no control over the situation. Every rebellion -as tiny as it was- would have caught Bellatrix’s attention and we would all have been dead._

_I became a Death Eater, the worst. But the truth is you were the reason I was hanging on. I was hoping you’d defeat Voldemort. I wanted you to win for selfish reasons only. I couldn’t care less about the others. I threw up multiple times a day whilst being in his service. I couldn’t bear it, but I kept going because, for the first time, my father showed me interest._

_Every wall I built around me collapsed when this fucking mark entered my skin. You wanna know something? I’ve always been an arrogant prick. I’ve always thought that I was better than all of you because I belonged in a Pure-blooded family. Today, I realize that I was pretty far from it. I was lost, trapped between two worlds. What if I could return in the past and be braver than I’ve been? Would it change anything? I was too pathetic and weak to kill Dumbledore, but too dark to be a hero. Where could I have belonged?_

_I guess I’m going far from the main subject here, so I’ll stop. Thank you again Harry, and sorry. Goodbye._

_Draco_

Draco carefully closed the parchment and attached it around his black owl’s neck. Even though he was living with the muggles he couldn’t abandoned his only friend. He leaned in and kissed her when he realized that he’ll give up on her too. He got the parchment back and wrote a last line before he attached it again.

“Bring this to Harry okay beautiful? Go!”

He watched her fly until she disappeared in the sky and sighed in relief. He did it, he wrote this flawed letter, this goodbye letter. Without further thinking he opened his suitcase and got his wand. He got in his car and drove, without any precise destination. He stopped when he found a beautiful clearing. He got out of his car. This was the place. He could stare at the moon, stare at the beauty of the universe. He walked twenty minutes or so, his grey eyes never leaving the sky. When he stopped walking, he rose both his arms.

“Tell them I’m sorry, tell Astoria it wasn’t her fault okay?”

He let himself fall on the ground, rose his wand against himself and slowly said his last words.

“Avada Kedavra”

Harry dropped the book, his hands were shaking and he was crying. On the first page of the book was written “For Harry, who freed me. Thank you for offering me this new life.” Beside Harry was standing Luna -Draco’s owl-. The last line of the letter said “ ps: please take good care of her.”


End file.
